Rob paused, swallowing and taking a few deep breaths in the bright morning sunshine before rapping on Kari’s front door. She had invited him over first thing for breakfast before they started work. He shifted his grip on the black case he had collected from work the day before.
Her smile when she opened the door was reassuring. So was the smell wafting through the house when he followed her inside. Coffee, bacon, and…
He nearly moaned. “Oh. Pancakes. I haven’t had pancakes in I don’t know how long,” he said as she poured him a cup of coffee in the kitchen.
“You’ll have them in a few minutes. Have a seat.” A covered glass bowl steamed with already-made pancakes and another batch was starting to bubble in a skillet on the stove. Kari grabbed a plate and lifted the lid off the bowl. Rob seated himself at the little banquette at one end of the kitchen. She had set it with cloth napkins and silverware. A butter dish and jug of maple syrup sat in the middle of the table.
“Real maple syrup. The good stuff,” he said, laying a napkin on his lap.
“The only stuff,” she replied, laying a plate in front of him with a tidy stack of pancakes flanked by several strips of bacon.
“A woman after my own heart.” He laid his hand on his chest and rolled his eyes at the ceiling and Kari laughed, an easy, lighthearted sound. She moved back across the kitchen to keep an eye on the next batch of pancakes. Rob put butter and maple syrup on his, the butter disappearing swiftly into the surfaces of the cakes, the syrup trailing lazily down the sides of the stack. The first bite was pure heaven and Rob really did roll his eyes now.
He chewed and swallowed. “Damn, Kari. This is…”
“A just reward for helping me so much.”
“I told you I don’t need a quid pro quo.”
“Hush. Let me do a nice thing for you when you’ve done so many nice things for me.” Her voice slid across his skin like silk. I needed to feed my sourdough starter anyway.” Kari slid into the seat opposite him, her own plate piled with food.
“Sourdough?” Rob asked around a mouthful.
“Sourdough buttermilk pancakes.”
He swallowed. “Good grief. No wonder they’re so fabulous.”
They settled into a companionable silence as they ate, Kari hopping up at one point to flip the last batch. Rob had seconds, eating far more than he usually did and enjoying every bite of maple sweetness and bacon saltiness.
“That. Was. Tremendous.” Rob leaned back in his seat, rubbing his stomach. “I haven’t had a breakfast like that in years.”
“Glad you liked it.” Kari collected the plates and moved to the sink to wash up.
“Want me to help with that? Or I can start the prep work in the dining room.”
“I’m good here, thanks. I have this fabulous new faucet.” She shot him a friendly smile over her shoulder and Rob’s heart gave an unruly thump.
Collecting his case, Rob took it into the living room. The sketch pad with Kari’s motif ideas was still on the coffee table. She had erased the stray mark that marred one of the drawings and had added more ideas on subsequent pages. Using his phone, he snapped photos of each page, then opened the case and took out the portable projector inside and connected it to his phone. It took a little experimentation, but he was able to set the projector up to point at the arched wall over the entrance to the dining room.
“What’s going on in here?” Kari asked, wiping her hands on a towel as she came into the room.
“Your ‘stencil.’ Of a sort.” He pointed at the motif projected onto the wall. “You can use that to guide your painting. Like doing a pencil outline, but no need to erase anything.”
Kari turned and regarded his handiwork. “Very clever,” she said, giving him a slow clap that was muffled by the dish towel.
“Not at all. Mia likes home improvement shows. I’ve seen this kind of thing done more than a few times.”
“You watch home improvement shows with your daughter?” Kari turned bright eyes to his face.
“Yup. I’ve always tried to make sure I have a handle on what she watches. It started because I wanted to monitor what she was taking in—you know, when she was a kid. Now I just like to know what she’s interested in so we could have stuff to talk about that isn’t just school or work or things like that.” It had been a while since Mia had come over for dinner and TV. A pang of loneliness made his next breath a little shaky. Seeing Mia grow up and become independent was his greatest pride and greatest sorrow. Pride for her, sorrow for his selfish self.
“That’s really sweet.”
He blinked, coming back from his wayward thoughts. “Home improvement shows are a damn sight better than Disney princess knockoffs. Mia’s of an age where Disney wasn’t making many of the princess movies when she was at the prime age for them. I wish she had been able to see Frozen when she was a kid, for instance. That movie had some great messages for girls.”
She waved her hands in front of her face, the dish towel flapping. “I take it back. You follow Disney princess movies even though your daughter is an adult? That’s not just sweet. That’s adorable.”
“Pretty hard to miss Frozen. I’m far from the only adult who has seen it.”
Kari raised her hand. “I’ve never seen it.”
The look on Rob’s face at her admission was priceless. His mouth hung agape for a moment, then he slapped his own cheeks, as if to revive himself from shock.
“You’ve never seen Frozen?”
“Nope.”
“But you’re Scandinavian.”
“So?”
“It’s…” He waved a hand. “You’ve got to see this movie. That’s all I’ll say.”
“Okay, I’ll look into streaming it.”
“Or you could come over to my place sometime and watch it. I have it on Blu-Ray.”
“You just keep surprising me.” Kari shook her head, unable to resist the smile that tugged at her mouth. She wondered if he had an entire collection of Disney movies. “Sure. That sounds like fun.”
“Maybe after we finish up with this?” He turned and waved at the painting apparatus sitting on the tarp-draped dining room table. “A suitable reward for a hard day’s work.”
Was he…flirting with her? He looked back at her and Kari examined his eyes. They didn’t seem overly warm or coaxing or sensual. Just friendly.
“Okay.” She resisted the urge to say, “It’s a date.” Because it obviously wasn’t and joking about it seemed like it would make it weird.
Rob showed her how to change the images he had taken of her sketchbook and position the projector until the motif was lined up just so. Then he set her up with the stepladder he’d brought over from his house the day before and went into the dining room, sanding the areas where he’d spackled the various nail holes from hanging pictures and other small imperfections on the dining room walls.
Kari resisted the urge to watch him, instead getting her supplies set up on the stepladder’s little shelf and examining the placement of the projected motif on the wall. Deciding it was what and where she wanted, she selected a fine brush and started applying paint to the wall in delicate strokes. She lost herself in the task for a while, enjoying the meticulous work, trying different brushes for different purposes. Realizing she’d need to move the ladder before she attacked the next section, she leaned back to assess the effect.
“Beautiful.” Rob’s voice was low and appreciative behind her. She capped the little pot of paint and grinned down at him.
“You think so?”
“I really do. You could hire out to do this sort of thing, you know.”
Kari scrubbed at her forehead with the back of her hand, conscious of the still-wet brush in her fingers. “Right. I’m so sure. But I have to say I like it.”
“I’ll convince you later. I want to get these walls rolled.”
Kari stepped down the ladder and looked into the dining room. He had painted the edges of the walls and they glowed pale gold, the paint still glossy and wet. “Wow. It already looks so different.”
“Different good?” Rob’s face was anxious, the skin around his eyes tight.
She met his eyes and smiled. “Different beautiful.”
Rob hadn’t been aware of how much he was hoping she liked what he was doing until he asked.
Her glowing face said everything and every cell in his body seemed to bask in her praise. He hadn’t chosen the color, but it seemed his current happiness apparently depended on her approving of his application of the paint.
“You really like it?” he asked.
Her eyes roamed over the color that ringed the dining room walls as she replied. “I do.”
“Well, then. I’d better get to rolling.” Rob walked back into the dining room to recheck the spots he’d applied spackle to, smoothing a hand over the walls prior to pouring paint into a pan and loading the roller with practiced strokes. Raising the roller to the wall, he ran it in an easy W, then repeated, filling the space with an even layer of paint. The rhythmic nature of the task should have been soothing, but he was all too aware of Kari, who had returned to the ladder in the dining room’s doorway, her long legs outlined by skinny jeans.
The slicking sound of the paint on the roller didn’t help. Barring the faint squeak from the roller itself, the soft, wet sound of paint being applied to the wall sounded like sex, pure and simple.
Focus on the squeak.
Yeah. Sure. Not with Kari’s legs in his peripheral vision and the intimate, slick sound of the paint in his ears. Besides, the squeaking sounds could be bedsprings creaking. How long had it been? His hand paused and he blinked, maneuvering the roller over the wall in studied, steady strokes. It didn’t matter how long it had been since he had been with a woman. He was a disaster at relationships. He knew this. Besides. Kari wouldn’t be interested in a middle-aged wreck like him.
Also, Kari was special. He wasn’t going to screw up what looked like a promising friendship. Or even worse, make things weird with his next-door neighbor. He focused on the paint, watching the pale sunshine color blossom across the dining room walls.
Yes. He could do this for her. He could fix her sink. He could paint her dining room. He could keep her at arm’s length…crap.
He had invited her over for a movie night. Tonight.
The thought of Kari’s legs tucked up on his sofa for movie night made his wrist wobble across her dining room wall. He redoubled his attention to the task at hand. He glanced over at the ladder where she stood. He couldn’t see her face, but he could imagine the concentration as she traced out the motif she had designed, the delight as it bloomed on the walls as she painted.
Up, down. The swaying motions of painting soothed him now. The room emerged as a golden wheat field, ready for…what? Bodies to roll in?
Good grief.
His imagination needed to take a break. He put the roller in the pan and stood back from the wall he had finished painting, scanning for inconsistencies or other flaws.
“Beautiful.” The voice in his ear made him start. Kari. Next to him. Looking around the room with a dazed expression that made his imagination spark again. “I can’t believe it. You’re done.”
“It’s not a very big room.” Rob’s voice sounded rusty, even to his own ears.
“But it looks bigger now, somehow. I can’t believe I didn’t just run in and paint every room in the house immediately.” Kari bounced on her toes, then spun and flung her arms around his neck hugging him tight. “Thank you.”
His arms went around her. A reflex. As was the deep inhalation that mirrored her own, almost a sigh. Her body felt so soft and warm against his, so good.
“Thank you,” she murmured again. Then, before he could muster up the willpower to pull away, she stepped back, still looking around at the room.
That’s right. The room. She had hugged him because he’d painted a room.
For a few moments, he realized, he had some sort of silly schoolboy fantasy that he had done her some huge service. A knight’s quest. A dragon slain. But no. He had merely painted a room for her.
Something anyone could do.
The change in the dining room was a miracle. With the color on the walls, Kari could now envision the rest of the rooms in the house, all blossoming to life like flowers blooming in a time-lapse movie. A pale green in her bedroom. Sea-glass blue in the bathroom. Terra-cotta for the kitchen.
And the living room, the first room anyone saw, with its austere white made rich by the Scandinavian motif picked out in cornflower blue.
“Come see what I’ve done.” Kari wheeled and strode back into the living room, Rob right behind her. She was coming down off her high a bit now, feeling a little awkward about that hug. He’d hugged her before, when she had broken down in the kitchen. But that had felt like an almost perfunctory thing. A person needed comfort. Hugs were comforting. A hug was administered. As soon as she started to pull herself together, Rob had retreated.
This exuberant expression of joy felt like it had crossed a line, gotten more personal. And his body had felt so good—too good—when he’d hugged her.
“What do you think?” She waved at the arch over the entry into the dining room, watching his expression. No, she definitely shouldn’t get more personal.
Rob was friendly and attractive, but he also didn’t seem like he wanted anything more than friendship from Kari and she had no interest in making a fool of herself over a guy who wasn’t interested. She was too old for that nonsense. A lifetime of a few relationships developing out of occasional dates from guys who didn’t consider her to be too tall, too intimidating, or too…whatever left her less than enthused about the idea of romantic relationships in general.
Rob’s gaze scanned the motif, his eyes warming and the corners of his lips lifting. He looked sideways at her. “This is great. I might need to commission you to do something in my house.” Oh, she wasn’t going to fixate on that expressive mouth. No, most definitely not.
Because sex? Great in theory. Occasionally great in reality. But usually? A huge disappointment. Guys who seemed to be sweet and attentive on a date who turned out to be clueless in the bedroom were all too common. Kari’s own fingers or her small collection of vibrators were far more reliable sources of pleasure.
And besides, if she came to climax by herself, it logically followed that she had the bed all to herself after. She could stretch her entire all-too-long-for-most-guys body out and not have to share with anyone else. She didn’t have to try to make herself small to accommodate someone who thought that at least sixty percent of the mattress real estate was the minimum of his fair share.
“What are you thinking about?” Rob’s voice intruded on her internal monologue and she felt heat licking across her cheeks as if someone had applied a match to her face.
Kari cleared her throat. “Just getting ahead of myself a bit. Colors I want in other rooms. You’ve inspired me.”
“I have, huh?”
Oh, crap. Now his crooked smile seemed flirty and interested. Completely at odds with his platonic-friendly attitude of a few moments earlier.
“Sure. You have all the handyman skills I should acquire. That’s inspiring, right?”
“Sounds more like a job than an inspiration when you put it that way,” Rob said, his gaze scanning the wall they faced as if it held some sort of secret code he could unlock if he only looked at it hard enough.
“Nah. For someone like me, it’s definitely inspiring.” Kari bumped his shoulder with hers, earning another sideways smile.
“Someone like you?”
“Someone who always called the building manager or landlord or whoever and only hoped they’d give a crap. As opposed to being able to even consider doing it myself.”
Rob tilted his head, seeming to concede the point. “So, what’s next on your home improvement quest, fair maiden?”
“Fair maiden?” She snort-laughed. She couldn’t help it.
“Fair Maiden Who Slays Her Own Dragons. I thought the whole thing was too long to put on the business card.”
She bumped his shoulder. “Says the guy who has Rocket Surgeon, Master Plumber, and International Man of Mystery on his.”
“Well, if I’m being modest.” His dark eyes twinkled with humor.
Kari folded her arms across her chest. “I think the next thing isn’t about my house but yours.”
“Mine?”
“Yes, yours. You have a mountain of mail for me to sort. Or so you claim.”
“Oh, I don’t claim anything. The mountain is real.”